


Someday We Might

by pissvinegarandacrowbar



Series: I guess you were my first boy wonder [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Body Image, Explicit Language, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Love Confessions, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Character Death, Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 15:12:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5502407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pissvinegarandacrowbar/pseuds/pissvinegarandacrowbar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>You said someday we might, when I'm closer to your height.</em>
</p>
<p>“Go see him, dumbass,” Roy chortled, his tone mocking but affectionate. “Poor baby <em>misses</em> you.” Roy effortlessly caught the glass Jason threw at him, laughing all the while. “There’s a key to his place on my keyring - because you were worried about the <em>implication</em> of him giving it to you. Honestly, Jaybird, some of us in this warehouse are adults.”</p>
<p>(Jason's clothing has mysteriously gone missing. It prompts a revelation and a confession.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someday We Might

**Author's Note:**

> For anonymous's request on Tumblr: "“Can I borrow a shirt to wear?” with either Jay or Dick?" and for kate1zena here who requested: "You must do one of Dick confessing his looooooove for Jay and one where Jay confesses his love for Dick". This is neither of those prompts exactly, but a small mix of both.
> 
> Designed to be read while listening to "Fallingforyou" by The 1975, which is a _very_ Jason/Dick appropriate song.

“Man, I’m still so pissed off! We were so _close_ , and fuckin’ Ollie has to show up out of nowhere with his sixth sense for witnessing my shittiest moments. Fuckin’ ridiculous son of a -”

Jason sighed heavily and pushed open their front door, mostly tuning out Roy’s rambling from behind him. Honestly, he was fucking exhausted, and handling Roy right then was about three energy levels above what Jason could muster. He understood Roy’s frustration - shared it, even - because Roy was right: the trip had turned out to be a complete and utter fucking waste of time. But there was nothing they could do about it right that second. Jason was _spent_. Nothing to wipe him out like painstakingly shadowing a drug ring in Star City, accidentally tipping Oliver Queen off to their presence, throwing down with him in a condemned apartment building, and ending up all but fleeing the city on the first commercial flight back to Gotham.

Goddamn, but Jason had had better weeks.

“Sleep it off, Roy,” Jason offered as he shoved his bedroom door open with his foot and threw his bag on the floor. “Oliver Queen is still an idiot, Star City is still a wasteland, and you’re still better off for having left both. Life is as usual.” Jason could hear Roy grumbling something in response from the kitchen, but it was secondary to his intense desire to change into fresh clothes and _sleep_. God, sharing a bed with Roy in their shitty, cheap hotel room had been hell. Jason thought he was used to clingy, what with having shared a bed off and on with Dick Grayson for the last year, but _Jesus_. Roy was another level altogether, constantly shoving into Jason’s space, drooling on his pillow, and wrapping his limbs around him like a gangly, idiotic, ginger octopus. Jason had ended up curled up on the room’s shitstain office chair ten of the twelve nights, begging for sleep to take him so he could be somewhat functional in the morning.

And beyond Jason’s general desire for sleep - and _oh_ , did he desire it - Jason was lonely, too. Roy was good company, always had been, but Jason had become accustomed to seeing Dick nearly every day, had been spoiled by being able to talk to him and be _near_ him and reach out and touch him, whenever he wanted. It unsettled Jason, how easily and quickly he had adjusted to, come to _expect_ , Dick’s presence in his life. But Dick was like warm water, had been from the start, easing his way into Jason’s daily routine with a gentle simplicity, smoothing around his rough edges to take up home in the hollow parts of Jason’s chest.

Jason would never admit it, but the thought of losing Dick now made his heart clench up in panic.

Jason sighed again and headed for his dresser, intent on grabbing some sweats and a t-shirt and crawling into bed. With any luck, Dick would join him soon anyways - he had been watching over the warehouse for Jason and Roy, keeping an eye on it while they were gone, and the fact that they were home nearly a week early was sure to have set off alarms that he would notice sooner or later. Jason let a careful hope bubble up in his throat as he pulled on his sweats and imagined Dick showing up in a few hours, crawling into bed behind Jason and wrapping around his body like a vice. Dick would try not to wake him, content just to curl up with him until he woke up on his own, but Jason was a light sleeper and would stir, roll over to press his face to Dick’s neck, breathe in the line of his jaw and staunchly not admit the way Dick’s skin beneath his still made him tremble. Maybe Dick would coo out a pleased noise and worm his way down until he and Jason were face to face, would press his lips to Jason’s and kiss him slowly and passionately, lap away all of Jason’s insecurities with his tongue as he ran his hands beneath Jason’s hem and skimmed them over scars, setting Jason’s skin on fire -

Jason was jolted back to reality with the feeling of his hand touching the bottom of his surprisingly empty t-shirt drawer. Jason frowned, confused by his lack of clothing, but a thorough check of the rest of his drawers revealed that most of his clothes - save the ones he had taken on his trip - were missing. “What the _fuck_ ,” he muttered, and he wandered out into the common area, the worst case scenario springing to his mind immediately. “Roy, were we fucking robbed? I can’t find any of my t-shirts.”

Roy, despite his evident exhaustion, managed to raise an eyebrow at Jason over his cup of instant coffee. “You’re missing t-shirts,” he said slowly, as if talking to a child, “so your first instinct is to assume that we were robbed? No offence, but I don’t think anyone gives a shit about your thrift-store clothing. Wouldn’t our fuckin’ TV be missing, or some valuable shit?” And - well, fuck. Roy was kind of right.

Roy took another sip of his coffee before he tilted his head at Jason and a smug smile grew on his face. “Your shirts?” he asked again, and when Jason nodded, he smirked a little more. “The only person with a key to our place was Dick, Jaybird. I know because _I_ gave my key to him when you freaked out about the implication of giving him yours.”

“And?” Jason demanded, huffily, and Roy just went right on grinning.

“And, he probably missed you because he’s a huge fuckin’ sap. So, add a lonely Dickhead to unrestricted access to your clothing, and what do you get?" 

Jason groaned and covered his face. “Seriously?” he grumbled, and Roy laughed straight from his gut. 

“Go see him, dumbass,” Roy chortled, his tone mocking but affectionate. “Poor baby _misses_ you.” Roy effortlessly caught the glass Jason threw at him, laughing all the while. “There’s a key to his place on my keyring - because you were worried about the _implication_ of him giving it to you. Honestly, Jaybird, some of us in this warehouse are adults.”

Roy fucking Harper. 

~~ 

By the time Jason got to Dick’s place, his weariness had tempered to a mostly dull ache in the back of his head. He parked his bike and shuffled up the stairs to Dick’s apartment, clutching the key in his hand. Roy wasn’t wrong - Dick _had_ offered Jason a key, but he had backtracked quickly when he saw the look of sheer panic on Jason’s face. Jason still couldn’t put into words what his relationship with Dick really _was_ , and still hadn’t agreed to them telling a soul other than Roy (and Tim and Damian, though that was absolutely not by Jason’s choice), so the idea of having a key to his _home_ was… 

Scary.

Jason let himself in to Dick’s apartment and locked the door behind him. “Dick?” he called out, taking care to keep his voice quiet, but there was no answer. Dick was either on patrol or in bed, then.

Jason toed off his boots and walked to Dick’s bedroom, pausing just outside the half-open door. Even from there he could hear Dick snoring, and a small half-smile grew on his face at the sound. Jason pushed into the room, making sure to walk softly so he wouldn’t wake Dick up.

Dick was curled up in his bed, the sheets thrown off and a pillow - _Jason's_ pillow, or so Dick always told him - clutched in his arms. His hair was a rumpled mess, falling in his eyes and over the tops of his ears, and it looked more than a little like he had been drooling in his sleep. But Jason couldn't - couldn't even _care_. All he could focus on were Dick's long arms and legs, all golden skin tangled up in the blanket at the bottom of the bed, and the black t-shirt he was wearing that was large enough to fall to the middle of his thighs.

_Jason's_ t-shirt.

Jason knew that Dick was attractive, knew that looking at him for too long or too directly was like staring at the sun, but Jesus _Christ_ , he couldn't think of anything that compared to this. Olive-toned athletic limbs, strong and flexible, all dwarfed by his shirt, _his shirt_ , and Dick sleeping peacefully as if this little piece of Jason was all it had taken to soothe him to unconsciousness. Jason was struck with a sudden, gut-wrenching feeling of possession, of desire, of wanting to mark Dick up and down until every single person he met would know he belonged to Jason. He wasn't usually jealous or clingy, had been through enough shit to figure that all the best things in life were transitory, but this, Dick in his shirt looking as fucking gorgeous as he'd ever seen him, was something Jason wanted to keep, bundle up and hold close to his chest where no one could touch or look or _think_ about it to ruin it. 

Dick was constantly telling Jason he loved him, _mostly_ accidentally. Sex was by far the most common time - Dick never shut the fuck up to begin with, but he was all mouth when Jason was inside him, constant nonsense mumbling that more often than not took the form of: ‘Oh god, yes, love you, _love you_.” But there had been other times, too: the first time Jason was shot after they, er, _got together_ ; the day Jason spent learning how to make Romani pastries to surprise Dick, none of them turning out anything close to authentic but tasting sweet second-hand on Dick’s tongue anyways; the late nights when Jason spilled out the embarrassing details of his preteen crush on Dick and Dick waited until he thought Jason was asleep to whisper, “I love you, Little Wing,” against his forehead.

But Jason - Christ, Jason couldn’t even admit it to _himself_ , let alone to anyone else. He had confessed to Roy twice, once drunk and once in the throes of a panic attack, but _never_ again since. The words were trapped tight in his chest, behind a metal cage of abuse and self-hatred. He had been close at times - had looked at Dick in the blue haze of Gotham’s night, his eyes wide and face carefree as they sat on Jason’s balcony and told stories, reminded each other of the things they had seen and survived. But he had never been able to do it. The words were there, sometimes as far forward as the tip of his tongue, but they never made it past his teeth.

But Dick, like this, vulnerable and effortlessly handsome as hell in Jason’s clothing, was shaking Jason to his core. He couldn’t have pinpointed the exact reason if he tried - if it was his loneliness on the trip, or some deep-seated possession pleased with Dick wearing his shirt, or just the way that Dick looked so much younger than 27 when he slept like this - but Jason wanted. He wanted to tell him. He wanted to _try_.

“Dick,” Jason whispered, crawling on the bed to push at his shoulder. “Dick, you… You fucking idiot. Wake _up_.” Dick mumbled something unintelligible in response, but he opened one eye to peer at Jason, seeming entirely unsurprised that Jason was there despite the fact that he was home days early. And something in that reaction, in Dick’s easy acceptance of Jason’s presence, the way he pushed his shoulder into Jason’s hand with all the instinct of a lifelong habit, shook the words free from Jason’s chest.

Jason grabbed Dick’s jaw with both hands until he was hovering over Dick’s prone body and Dick was finally _looking_ at him, their noses nearly touching. “I,” Jason started, breathed out over Dick’s eyelashes. “I love you.”

Dick blinked a little and smiled, slow and lazy and completely unaware. “Tha’s nice,” he mumbled, the words slurring against Jason’s chin as Dick leaned forward into him. “C’mere?" 

And Jason - was crushed. He shouldn’t have built this stupid moment up in his head, shouldn’t have worked himself up so fucking much that he made an idiot of himself. Of course Dick wouldn’t give a shit - he was half asleep, and even if he wasn’t, love was _easy_ for Dick. Loving other people and having them love him back was Dick Grayson’s best talent, worn into an art by his charming smile and infectious laugh and disarming kindness. Dick’s capacity for love was _enormous_ compared to most people’s, let alone Jason’s, so _of course_ he wouldn’t find it worth celebrating that Jason had finally told him he loved him. _Everyone_ loved Goldie.

Jason crawled off Dick and slipped into his bed, wrapping an arm around him to pull Dick to his chest, tried to let the firm pressure of his body stop Jason from shaking. He breathed out unsteadily against the back of Dick’s neck as Dick squirmed and made happy little sounds, burrowing further into Jason’s arms. And, okay, at least Jason had _this_ , right? Dick might not get it, might not ever understand the _years_ of counter-conditioning that Jason had had to fight to spill out those stupid three words, but Dick was still there, content and pleased with something as simple as Jason’s presence. Dick had still missed Jason so much that he had sought out his clothing to comfort himself. That counted for something, didn’t it?

Jason could feel the edge of a panic attack coming on, blurring his vision as he blinked rapidly. God, he was such an idiot. He should have known, should have realized that no good could come of spilling his pathetic guts all over Dick’s bedroom floor and hoping Dick would pick out the pieces that mattered. Jason pulled his arm back from around Dick to wrap it around his stomach, turning over to face the window and focus on the breathing exercises he had learned as a Robin and perfected as an estranged ex-bat. _In, out, in, out, nothing can hurt you, it’s all in your head, just_ ** _breathe_** _you idiot piece of -_

“Jason?” The sleepy voice came from over Jason’s shoulder, but he was too deep, too far gone in his internal pit of panic to care about it. “You’re home? Thought… I thought I was dreaming.”

“‘M real,” Jason muttered through his teeth, clenching his hands a little tighter in his shirt. “Real as it fucking gets.”

Dick stirred a little, turned over to drape himself over Jason, but paused with his hand hovering over his waist. “Jay?” he asked, and his voice was much more alert now, the tone worried. “Jay, are you okay? What’s wrong?” And Jason - god, he could barely choke out a laugh through his throttled lungs. _What’s_ _wrong, street rat? Did you think he would care that you opened up to him?_

“Nothin’,” Jason ground out eventually. “I’m fine. Go back to sleep, Dickie.” But Dick was _worried_ now, god- _fucking_ -dammit, and that meant that he wasn’t going to let this one go. He pulled at Jason’s shoulder until Jason rolled over onto his back, breath still panting out unnaturally fast. Dick stroked through Jason’s hair carefully, soothing and soft, but didn’t try to touch him otherwise. Jason still got claustrophobic during panic attacks when he was held down or lied on top of, and the fact that Dick remembered and _respected_ that wasn’t helping ease the clench of Jason’s heart.

“S’okay, Little Wing,” Dick murmured, voice soft and low in Jason’s ear, thumb rubbing idly at the nape of Jason’s neck. “S’okay, you’re safe.” Dick carefully pressed his lips to the corner of Jason’s jaw, a sweet little nonsense gesture, and Jason could feel his chest release a little, the tension easing out. “Nothing will get to you, you’re okay.”

It took a few more moments of that, Dick touching him softly and carefully and whispering reassurance in a quiet voice, before Jason finally came back to earth. He uncoiled slowly and rubbed his hands over his face, flexing his fingers to release the tension in them from clenching the fabric of his shirt too tightly. “Fuck, sorry,” he muttered finally, through his knuckles. “Just stupid - just had a fucking moment. I’m fine.”

Dick pulled back so he could look at Jason directly, his head tilted to the side as if he were figuring something out. He opened his mouth to speak before he snapped it shut and his eyes went wide. “You,” Dick whispered, covering his mouth with one hand. “You. Did you tell me that you… _Love_ _me_?”

Jason winced and tried to pull away, but Dick had bracketed Jason’s thighs with his own and was keeping him in place. “Fuck off,” he muttered, squirming under the pressure of Dick’s lower body. “Leave me alone.”

Jason had never seen Dick look so shocked in his life, and it started to flair up that curl of anxiety in Jason’s stomach until Dick’s expression of surprise morphed to horror. “Oh my god,” he said, his voice clearly distressed. “I thought I was dreaming. I didn’t… I didn’t acknowledge it. You told me you love me, and I _didn’t say it back_.”

“Don’t -” Jason started, but Dick’s ever-present sense of justice beat him out. Dick rocked forward and pressed his palms to Jason’s cheeks, leaning in until they were just breaths apart.

“I love you,” Dick said, voice reverent, and Jason tried and failed to twist away again. “Jason, I love you. I’m so sorry I didn’t pay attention when you said it earlier. I am so, so sorry. But I love you. I love you. _I love you_.”

Something that felt reminiscent of a wave of panic, but without the sharp edges, was rising in Jason’s chest. “Just,” he tried, but he had to stop to steady his shaking voice. “Just - just. Just come _here_.” He grabbed the back of Dick’s head roughly, hand twisting in his hair, and pulled Dick’s mouth down to meet his. Dick wasn’t prepared - his mouth was half-open, lips dry and breath sour from sleep - but he surged into the kiss anyways, pressing down into Jason until he could feel Dick’s body _everywhere_ , his hands grasping at Jason’s jaw desperately as he let Jason lick into his mouth, pour his heart out on Dick’s tongue.

“God, Jason,” Dick said waveringly when he pulled back, as he ran his thumb along Jason’s lips. “Please… Please tell me I didn’t miss my chance.” When Jason raised an eyebrow, Dick’s whole face seemed to crumple. “I know I messed up. But please tell me - _please_ tell me that one day you’ll say it again.” 

Jason felt his heart contract in his chest. He pushed hard until he was rolling Dick over, laying on top of his body and trying not to notice how much it felt like _home_. Jason tipped his head to the side of Dick’s neck and took a deep breath, ran his hands up Dick’s ribs beneath his stolen t-shirt. “You need to stop taking my clothes, because I’m running out of things to wear,” he said into Dick’s skin, his voice tight and scared and frantic but also _right_. “But I… I. I fucking love you, anyways. I always have."

Jason could feel the vibration of Dick’s laughter against his mouth, and he lifted his head to see that Dick’s eyes were shining and his smile was threatening to split his face. “No promises about the shirts,” Dick whispered, and he ran his hands up Jason’s torso until they were bracketing his heart. Jason leaned up to press his lips to Dick's cheek, catching an errant tear there with his tongue, letting the taste of salt for a reason other than despair settle on his palate and lighten his chest with something like _happiness_. "No promises."

**Author's Note:**

> I know I promised angst, but I couldn't do it just yet (well, not fully). I want these poor boys to be happy for just a bit longer... For reference, Dick is 27 and Jason is 22 here.
> 
> Feedback is greatly appreciated, and you can interact with me on [Tumblr](http://pissvinegarandacrowbar.tumblr.com) if you'd like! Happy holidays, all!


End file.
